Two Geeks in a Pod
by daveypandas
Summary: Fuery meets Scieska once again. Will he ever be able to gather the courage in order to win her heart?
1. First Sight

A/N: I worked for over two months writing the entire story by hand on paper, so I'm glad to have worked on it (and miss it, lol). Anyway, I'm experimenting with some writing techniques, such as using fragments or anything else I can get my hands on to make the story sound better. So please, if you consider it bad grammar, I'm saying this ahead of time. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has been already copyrighted, okay? Good.

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**Two Geeks in a Pod**

_By: animeartist1_

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"Finished."

"Sir?"

Two dark eyebrows kneaded together. "My paperwork?"

Master Sergeant Fuery blinked. This obviously wasn't the Colonel's greatest day. "Oh…sorry! Should I take it, Sir?"

The superior glared at him quietly.

"R-Right away!" He quickly grabbed the large, over-piled bundle of paperwork and darted out of the office. The other coworkers took a nervous glance at him, somehow, becoming more eager to get back to work.

Fuery's mind couldn't quite make out which room he was supposed to bring the stack to, because it's been a while since he last took it out to get filed. He slowly walked, observing the flickering lights above him as well as the chalk-white panels on the walls which receded behind. Several doors remained open, the scent of coffee trying to lure passing military personnel; he decided it wasn't worth the bother, at least, not until he was finished with his current assignment.

It did take awhile for the Sergeant to find the filing room, having to pass through what seemed like a maze in the State Building. The only way he could find it was the sign with an engraving in brass lettering.

By this time, his arms were worn down from the pile which stacked all the way up to his glasses that he didn't even realize what was in front of him; he crashed into someone! Papers- every single last piece of organized records – were now unorganized, covering every single cubic inch of the floor's perimeter. Not to mention, his glasses were gone along with the paperwork.

Fuery leaned over, frantically searching for the glasses without setting his eyes elsewhere. As he did so, he apologized, expecting the person he crashed into to be much higher of a rank than he was. "I'm so sorry! I-I didn't know you were…" He looked up, expecting to be chewed out by the superior. Instead, he could only make out a thin, feminine figure. The Sergeant rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things; however, it was no good without the glasses anyway.

"N-No! S-Sorry! It was my fault!" a nervous yelp from the outline replied. "I should have looked where I was going, Master Sergeant Fuery! P-Please forgive me!"

It was a girl after all. Not only that, but he recognized the voice.

He stopped searching for his glasses, hoping it would come back to him, who the person in front of him was…Allowing his eyes to adjust to a blurrier focus, it hit him. _Scieska?_ _The librarian?_ _No_. he corrected _The used-to-be librarian_. Fuery was a little too stunned to move.

"And your glasses – they're cracked!" She panicked and awkwardly tried to clean them with her purple blouse the best she could, but it never fixed the brand new root of cracks in the lenses. "I'm soo sorry! I'll pay for it, I swear!" she cried.

Fuery did not know what to do; he obviously wasn't around girls enough to know this kind of emotional stuff. He nervously smiled, hoping it would help to make her stop crying. "Please, you don't have to pay for anything."

She continued to cry.

"Um…no! Really, I don't mind wearing them like this. I've needed a new pair anyway. No need to cry, okay?"

"Are you sure?" she sniffed.

Fuery nodded.

Scieska leaned over and gently set the glasses in place on the bridge of his nose, trying to make them look as neat as possible; This made Fuery's face turn bright pink. He noticed she appeared even cuter and prettier since the last time he saw her, which was nearly half a year ago. She wore the same pair of glasses that he remembered. Although she was still slightly scrawny and mousey, he found her to be very attractive; it was hard not to stare. This caused him to forget all about the paperwork, which he was absolutely sure that it would never stack itself. Fuery quickly tried to shuffle them back in order.

"I don't know what order they're in," Scieska said, "but I'll do my best to help you get them all gathered…if that's okay?" She moved several strands of loose, umber hair behind her ears. Her hair was longer too.

"Sure." Fuery smiled.

The first few minutes were quiet, but the Sergeant somehow succeeded in starting a conversation. "So…um…What do you do now that you're not working in the library…or whatever you were doing before?"

"I was just hired as a secretary. I wouldn't have ever made the job if I hadn't forced myself to keep from getting distracted by books."

"How is it, your job now?"

"Most of the time, all I do is fetch things such as coffee. It's not bad. This morning, I was sent in here to find some files they need by noon. I couldn't find them, so I thought I'd look in the bigger, older filing room to make sure; that's when I bumped into you, Sergeant," she said.

"You can call me Cain or Fuery if you like," he added.

"All right, Mr. Fuery."

"Uh…who are you secretary for? I'm just curious, that's all."

"General Jacques. I think he was recently promoted and stationed here in Central…"

"I've heard of him – only from what the Colonel mentioned as one of the newer personnel."

"Speaking of the Colonel," she asked, "how is he?"

Fuery laughed dryly. "Just fine. Let's just say that today isn't his best day."

"It happens," she agreed.

Both of them lightly chuckled.

Soon after, all of the papers were neatly piled, yet, disorganized. Fuery wasn't going to go through all those – today at least, but he did dread the look which would mold on the Colonel's face when he found out. Who knows? It could be fun if Scieska was around if he re-stacked them, to help pass the time.

He picked up the entire stack and set it in the pick-up box.

Scieska smiled and said, "If there's anything else I can do for you, Mr. Fuery, please let me know."

"See you around, then?" he asked. His face was rosier, hoping she wouldn't notice.

She nodded, and they walked their separate ways, refreshed with vigor to meet once again.

As Fuery walked in the hallway, he wondered how often Scieska was out and about. _She's so kind and polite…and she is_ – he abruptly shook it off. May as well forget it. Who would like a guy like him anyway?

His never-ending train of thought crashed when he found the Colonel – arms folded – staring at him, one eyebrow skeptically disappearing into his hairline. Hawkeye didn't pay much attention, since she was getting ready for a three-day vacation. However, the rest of the coworkers eyed Fuery as if they felt sorry for him. This wasn't good.

Sweat beaded on the Master Sergeant's forehead as he tried to come up with a flawless excuse. "Um…I…uh…"

"What took you _so long_?" Mustang asked. "You were gone for _thirty_ minutes. This isn't break time!"

"I apologize, Colonel, Sir! I won't do it again!"

"Fine." Roy Mustang pivoted around on his heels and sat at the head desk in his black leather chair, followed by a heavy sigh.

Fuery himself unraveled at his own desk, trying his best not to pay any attention to his curious, peeping coworkers. His mind spun around and continued to until it became impossible to avoid getting distracted on the job. She somehow reached his mind every now and then, no matter how many times he shoved it back. Only out of cowardliness.

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A/N: Next chapter: Will Fuery get his butt torched by Roy? What will happen next? The world may never know.

Feel free to review.


	2. Advice

A/N: Just to clear things up and make sure, I have _nothing_ against geeks. Good. On with the story.

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The annoying, familiar chime of the alarm clock had Fuery tossing a pillow firmly over his ears; he groaned and eventually rolled out of bed, reaching for his cracked pair of glasses. The large black hands on the alarm clock pointed 5:30. He had only thirty minutes left. Great.

He found the clothes he had lain out the night before on a chair and lazily, yet quickly, slid them on. As soon as he was ready, he locked his dorm room and quickly strolled to the State Building. The Sergeant greeted several people on his way to the lounge for a banana and a cup of java. The lounge greeted the young soldier with the lingering scent of pepper and fresh coffee, and so he remained there, enough to rejuvenate himself with the caffeine.

In the prime of Fuery's relaxing solitude, Breda popped in, wearing the usual dapper-man grin on his face.

"Hey, Cain! How's it going? Word has it that the Colonel got frustrated with you yesterday."

"Unfortunately," Fuery replied and smiled. "But, maybe he was just having a bad day."

Breda shrugged. "Yeah…What did you do anyway?"

"I…" he hesitated, then whispered, "…I dropped the paperwork…the Colonel doesn't know, but that's why I was so late getting back to the office."

Breda laughed. Fuery, however, held his breath and hoped the Colonel would be in a better mood today.

"Please, try not to tell anyone, okay? I don't want Mustang to find out," Fuery whispered again.

"Nah. Don't worry. You can count on me."

"Thank goodness!"

Breda smiled and patted Fuery's back so hard, it caused Fuery to spill his coffee all over his jacket; the Second Lieutenant didn't seem to notice.

The lounge door clicked open, followed by Falman. "Hey," he yawned. "I gotta get some caffeine before I collapse…and go to sleep…"

As Fuery listened, he eagerly tried to soak the spill off of his uniform with napkins.

"Did you hear the Colonel got dumped a couple days ago?" Breda asked. He opened a white box and pulled out a powdered donut.

Falman woke up that instant. "_No way_!" he gasped.

"Yup," Breda said as he happily gorged the donut.

"Then that explains why he's been so bitchy…" Falman grinned. This was definitely going to be the hot topic of the day.

Fuery sighed, praying the Colonel had lightened up soon. But who know how long that would take? He was better off deciding to get the tedious day over with if he wanted to avoid getting on the Colonel's bad side. Looking down at his soaked jacket, he hoped the stain would go unnoticeable.

After a while, the Master Sergeant abandoned his catty buddies in the lounge, heading toward Mustang's office. He just so happened to see Edward Elric in the hallway, who appeared to be muttering some kind of profanity under his breath; this took Fuery by surprise.

"Hey Ed! What are you doing here?"

"Meh. It's that damn Colonel," the boy replied.

Fuery didn't know how to respond, since Ed's mind was on a very different track than his. "Uh…well, it was good to see you again, Fullmetal."

"Yeah. You too, Sergeant." Ed waved and casually continued walking down the hall.

"Have a good day!" Fuery said. How _uncool_. He could have slapped himself for saying this, because it reminded him of the one phrase he used every day in one of his earlier jobs – a market manager. Saying it to Ed felt worse, since the teen was even grumpier since the last time he saw him.

The Master Sergeant continued to walk two levels upstairs and through a hallway when he came across someone else. And to his horror, it was Colonel Roy Mustang. Fuery fearfully gulped the only saliva he had in his mouth.

"Morning, Fuery."

He straightened up. "Good morning, Colonel, Sir! Is there anything I can do for you this time?"

Roy shook his head 'no' and began whistling as he continued to walk. Strange. When the superior was clear out of sight, Fuery sighed with a glorious sense of relief. He was very tempted to whistle himself, but couldn't when he saw a sign that he nearly passed, which was engraved with gold lettering: **General Jacques's Office**. So this was his office? The one where Scieska managed paperwork and such?

Fuery's heart and stomach fluttered. He quickly tip-toed past it, hoping he wouldn't come across her at the wrong time…He just needed some time to figure out a way for one thing – to ask her out on a date.

This thought bothered him until noon, since his daily routine passed before him. In fact, figuring out how to ask her on a date was the only thing that stumped him. (It wouldn't be that if the Colonel wasn't back to his good 'ol self, luckily.) Fuery has never had a girlfriend – let alone ask one out – before. He obviously didn't know anything about getting girls. And if he tried, he would either pass out or run away.

He thought of who he could get some inspiring words of advice from, but it couldn't just be anybody, or else, he would be seriously laughed at (which he felt he already was). Every time the guys would boast about "picking up chicks", he would always concentrate on something else so that he wouldn't be asked about his "experience". In this case, only two people came to mind who he was sure to be trustworthy and willing to listen: One, Riza Hawkeye or two, Roy Mustang.

Riza had already left for vacation for several days, so he couldn't ask her. He sighed. Roy would have to do. Roy was a pro at these things anyway.

When it was time for lunch dismissal, Fuery quietly stayed behind. He went up to Roy and whispered, "I…um…have to ask you about something…I need you to do me a favor…" He swung his head side-to-side in order to make sure everyone else was clear out of the room.

"Okay, what do you need?" Roy asked.

"It's kind of personal, but…"

"_Yes_?"

Fuery took Roy by surprise when he clenched to his jacket and begged, "Please, please, help me, Sir! It's about this girl…"

Roy rolled his eyes, stood back, and asked, "Chill, Sergeant. What about this girl?"

"Well…I…really, really like her! How do I ask her out?" Fuery's eyes gleamed with tears, like puppy dog eyes.

"Calm down, Fuery. I'll help you if you want me to."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Sir!"

"Now, tell me who it is you plan on asking out."

Fuery froze. "Y-You won't tell anybody, will you?"

Roy chuckled. "Of course not.

It was _so_ obvious that Fuery was a virgin.

"You won't laugh?" he asked.

"No."

Fuery took a deep breath, sighed, and whispered, "It's Scieska."

Roy found this humorous, imagining them as the perfect dorky couple, doing things such as holding hands, reading comic books together, putting on chap-stick before kissing, etcetera… No matter how funny he pictured it to be, he didn't show it. Either way, he was bound to keep all of his promises. "All right. I'll give you some advice," he said.

"Where do I start?"

"First, you have to talk to her, get familiar, you know, and make her laugh…"

Fuery paid close attention to every single word, as if inscribing it into his brain.

"Once she's comfortable with you," Roy continued, "that's when you should make your move."

"Move? What _move_, Sir? I just can't do that!"

"You can. Give her flowers, chocolate, a book or whatever, and then ask her out on a date."

Easier said than done.

"W-What if she's read every book?" Fuery asked.

"Write a poem. All chicks fall for it." Roy grinned. "It works every time."

The Sergeant didn't understand everything, but he decided not to ask too much. "Thank you, Colonel Mustang, Sir! I'll remember your advice and use it from now on!"

"Good. I want you to prove my advice successful, so…" A smirk appeared on his face. "I give you twenty-four hours to ask her out."

"B-But - !"

The smirk grew wider. "It's an order, Fuery, not a question."

Fuery knew not to ask questions. Instead, his jaw dropped into a horrific gape.

"Well," Roy checked his watch. "I got to go. Good luck." He casually strolled out of the office.

"B-But…" Fuery peered out of the door. It was too late. Roy had already gone.

It was only the start of the challenge.

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A/N: Feel free to review. 


	3. Allergic Reaction

A/N: I pause to thank those who have favored and reviewed this story! Thank you all!

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Staring blankly at the ceiling, Fuery thought of all the things he could possibly give Scieska; he couldn't give her a book since she's probably read it, nor was he any good at writing poetry… Either the good old-fashioned flowers and chocolate would have to work, or he would have to try his best at a poem. He mentally debated with himself and came up with the conclusion that he would start out with flowers.

Later that night after Fuery stepped out of the shower, he nervously glanced into the mirror, took a deep breath, and repeatedly asked the same dumb question, "Scieska, would you like to go out on a date with me?" Surprisingly, he gained more and more self-confidence each time.

Finally, he sighed. It was no use. _Who would like a guy like me?_ He closed his eyes. However, his conscience remained in constant battle. _Come on Fuery! You'll never know if you don't try!_ he told himself again.

Tomorrow was going to be another day.

He set his clock so that it would wake him up earlier than usual.

The morning routine was pretty much the same, except he made his way downtown to an old, quiet flower shop that had just opened up for the day. It was owned by a very elderly lady and was adorned with every kind or color of flower anyone could come up with. The early sunshine rays illuminated the hues of reds, blues, yellows, and whites modestly peeping behind the glass window.

Fuery ventured inside, accompanied by the chiming of bells stringed to the door handle.

A small, old lady sat at the counter, grinning toothlessly from ear-to-ear. "How may I help you, young man?" she asked.

He nervously grinned back saying, "I, uh, know this girl, and she used to be a librarian…I'd like to get her some flowers, but the problem is, I don't know what kind to get her."

"Just one second, Hun." The old lady headed toward the back of the shop and soon returned with a beautiful handful of daffodils. "Is this, perhaps, something you've had in mind?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That would be ten sens."

He dug the money out of his pocket and exchanged if for the daffodils.

"Thank you. Come again," the old lady said.

Fuery wanted to get to HQ early, that way he would be able to reach her before work. He sneaked past the lounge, but at the same time was tempted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Then, he made his way through the maze of stairs and hallways until he slid to halt at General Jacques's office door. It was barely cracked open, and Fuery could hear voices coming from the inside.

"Is your coffee okay, General Jacques, Sir?" That had to be Scieska's voice.

A man with a strong, masculine voice and a deep foreign accent (which Fuery never heard before) kindly replied, "Yes. It's just right."

"I'm glad, Sir."

There was a small moment of silence, then, Jacques said with a low grumble, "There's a paper I'm expecting this morning. It should be here about now. Will you please fetch it for me?"

"Yes, Sir!"

Fuery's heart started racing. _What am I going to do? Where can I hide?_ He quickly surveyed the hallway and took focus on an open door which led to the janitor's closet. He sprinted toward it, stuffed himself in there, and shut the door just as Scieska opened General Jacques's office door. He heard her little high heels clicking down the hallway to the mail room. The closet space was tight; the only safe place to keep the daffodils from smashing was under his nose, while at the same time, forgetting all about being allergic to flowers. The pollen seemed to worsen it by every passing second. He held his breath the best he could.

His face was nearly purple by the time he heard Scieska's heels click-clacking back. His allergies took the best of him when he accidentally knocked over a broom in the closet; he heard Scieska pause right on the spot, and his heart pounded so hard, he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. Then, he couldn't hold it anymore; he let out one of the biggest sneezes he had ever sneezed. The force was too hard. He soon found himself stumbled out in the middle of the cold, marble hallway.

Luckily, he had stopped himself from falling onto his face, but in front of him was a frightened, yet surprised Scieska. Several petals flew out of the bouquet in the process, but Fuery instantly pushed it toward her, stuttering, "I-I-I'm really sorry! Th-These are for y-you…"

Scieska's frightened expression disappeared, but her silence and surprise remained.

His breathing grew heavier, and his face was still swollen from the allergic reaction. "I meant to give you this, but…I…didn't know when to…" He took a gulp of air.

"To what?" Scieska asked. She gently smiled, taking the bouquet from him.

"Scieska, w-will you g-go out with me?"

"…Yes." She blushed.

"So…um…How about tomorrow? At seven?" His swollen face was now scarlet.

She nodded.

"Okay."

After sharing a somewhat awkward moment of just smiling and stuttering, the booming voice of General Jacques was heard out in the hall, "Scieska?"

She threw a last smile at Fuery before swiftly returning back to work crying, "I'M SOO SORRY! I'LL BE QUICKER NEXT TIME! PLEASE FORGIVE ME!"

Fuery's heart leapt ten feet into the air. He finally got a date! This had to be the best day of his life.

"Yes!" he said under his breath.

"It was about time you got a date." The Colonel chuckled before standing up from his desk. "I'm proud of you."

"I wouldn't if it wasn't for you, Sir." Fuery was grateful toward the Colonel, and grateful that he didn't refuse the order he was given.

The Colonel shot him a quick grin before heading off to lunch. From the vacated hallway Fuery could hear Ed fussing at Roy; he didn't know whether to laugh or run away.

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A/N: If you've noticed, I've added a hint of Roy x Ed in the story just to spice it up a little, lol. Feel free to review. 


	4. Date

A/N: On with the chapter.

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The Sergeant was fired-up the very next day; it wasn't just one of those average "work days". Instead, it was more of a sunny day. He couldn't wipe the excitement off of his face. On the way to the office, he came across Falman, who was carrying a large, cream yellow file. 

The Warrant Officer grunted, "What are you so happy about?"

Fuery grinned, careful not to give anything away. "No clue."

"Oh c'mon. There's gotta be something." Falman was thirsty for information, preferably for a good gossip topic.

"It's just a good day, I suppose."

"Yup. See you later, Sergeant."

"Later, Officer."

Upstairs, Fuery cautiously peeked into General Jacques's room, but it was empty this time.

The day progressed on rather quickly, since Fuery actually had something to look forward to, which was all he could think of. What would he say? How should he dress? Luckily, the rest of the coworkers focused on his or her work, leaving Fuery's bliss to himself. Every now and then, he would check the clock, realizing another hour had passed by already.

When he and the rest of his coworkers were dismissed around five 'o clock, Fuery headed straight to his dorm; he had only two hours in order to get ready and come back for Scieska. That should give him perfect timing. Once he reached the dorm, he ran to the bathroom, stripped, twisted the hot water on, and jumped into the shower. By the time he got out, the mirrors and his cracked glasses lenses were caked with steam.

He wiped the mirror with his bare hands, revealing a messy, oval frame where he stared back at himself. _Does Scieska really like me_ he thought _or does she feel sorry for me?_ He was always known to be "scrawny" and "four-eyed". Still, he wasn't going to give up, not at this point. After all, he has a date.

It was six 'o clock by the time he finished getting ready. He had time to pick up a box of chocolates before reaching Headquarters. The candy store was only halfway there. After picking up chocolate, he reached HQ ten minutes early, dressed in his best polo and khakis, standing outside. As he stood there, he stomach fluttered with every passing second. He pictured the best and worst that the date could possible turn out, but it was totally useless thinking anything too bad when he heard a clicking of heels coming toward him. Scieska.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she panted.

Fuery checked his watch. "Actually, you're seven minutes early."

Scieska, who was slightly out of breath, sighed, then smiled. "That's good."

Remembering he was still holding the box of chocolate, he quickly gave it to her and said, "I almost forgot to give you these…I was going to get you a book, but…"

"-Oh! That's okay! I like chocolate! It's very sweet of you, Fuery."

Fuery's face reddened. "It's nothing. I wanted to give you something. You deserve it…So, uh, where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I'll go anywhere you go."

"If there's any place you like to go to, then I wouldn't mind that either." His stomach growled.

"Have you been to the new café downtown?"

"No."

"Me neither."

"Would you like to try it?" he asked. "From what I've heard, it's pretty good."

"Sure. I've wanted to try it," she said, "but I haven't had any time to go there."

"Okay."

They ended up catching a cab, which was embarrassing for Fuery, since he didn't own a car. Scieska didn't seem to mind, though. She didn't own a car either. Apparently, good cars were hard to afford unless you were a rich bitch or a high-ranking soldier.

Soon, they reached the café. The café wasn't really big or fancy, but it was small and quaint. Sweet-scented cherry flavored tobacco filled the air. Very few people were in there, except for an anonymous jazz band, staff, and several men who sat at the same table, all wearing rugged fedoras.

"Wow," said Fuery, "this seems nice, doesn't it?"

Scieska nodded.

They made their way to a small booth just a few feet away from the band. The atmosphere was very smooth; there was a low hum of the cello, and an additional pitch of a saxophone.

Fuery observed the menu, but wasn't very familiar with most of it. Instead, he felt brave enough to at least order the special. He had the same feeling that Scieska must have been thinking the same thing once the waiter came by to take orders.

When the waiter left, she whispered, "So…um, what kind of country do you think this place is from?"

"I have no clue," Fuery replied.

They laughed lightly and exchanged smiles. It didn't seem that long when the waiter came back, this time with a bottle of what appeared to be burgundy wine. The waiter poured some for each, before disappearing once again.

Neither of them touched their glass. Fuery realized this and said, "I don't drink, but if you do, then that's okay."

"_No way_. I don't drink either," Scieska replied, "but I read somewhere that it's good for clearing arteries."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's no new news or anything, but I've heard that it works." She began tracing the rim of her wine glass. Fuery watched, noticing how thin – yet graceful – her fingers were. Maybe it was from reading so many books?

She stopped and took a drink before trying not to show a wince.

Now aware that he was staring (one of his worst habits), he quickly glanced toward the band. This time, an older gentleman was playing a low key on the bass guitar. Two other men were playing the drums and the trumpet. Fuery turned to face Scieska once again.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Yes," she replied. "In fact, I have two older brothers, Nathan and Ishmael; then, I have a sister, Catherine, who's older than me but is younger than the boys. We all stayed pretty close though...until the war…"

Fuery didn't want to push it too far, but at the same time, he was eager to know. "You can tell me if you want to…I mean, you don't have to…"

"No, it's all right," she continued. "Both of my brothers were sent to Ishbal, and there was a terrible accident. They died from it, leaving just me and Catherine as the only ones left. They say it was an accident, but I really think it was a cold-blooded murder. That's really why I joined the military."

"Scieska, I'm so sorry…"

"You don't have to apologize."

"I know, but it must have been hard."

"It was. Though luckily, some one found their killer before I did."

"Who was it who killed your brothers?" Fuery whispered, careful not to let the words bounce off into the room.

"Kimbly."

Fuery was lost for words. He knew Kimbly was a bad man ever since he first saw him, but who would have thought that he was the one who could have caused this much pain? "You don't have to worry anymore," he said, "because he was killed by Scar about six months ago."

"I just regret being so blind about things when I was a librarian. If only I could have stayed on task…"

"I can't necessarily blame you," Fuery said. "Anyone would get distracted if they were placed in a library that big."

She laughed. "You're probably right."

The waiter appeared, this time with two steaming plates. "Enjoy," he said before disappearing once again.

The couple quietly dug in. It was the best food Fuery has ever tasted in months. It had to have been the relaxing jazz or the good food – or perhaps, both. Either way, food and music work really well together. There was also the fact that he was sitting right across from Scieska.

"So…" Scieska wiped her mouth. "Are you an only child?"

Fuery nodded.

"What is it like?"

"Well, my father was always gone, and my mother was always working. It got kinda lonely sometimes."

"I bet."

"Breda was my best friend all through high school, and when he joined the military, I decided that I would join it too. We're still good friends, especially since we're both under Mustang's command," Fuery said.

"I never would have guessed."

Fuery smiled. "Small world."

Suddenly, a loud screech of the microphone erupted from the stage.

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A/N: What will happen next? Feel free to review. 


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